


Fine Wine and Quality Time

by TarasCarol (Jazzabenton)



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, PWOP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, self indulgent smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:21:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27493396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jazzabenton/pseuds/TarasCarol
Summary: Both women were so used to holding everything so close to their chest. Not speaking of the thoughts and fears that plagued them. Not used to giving voice to the grief and guilt they each felt for the children they had lost to this plague of undead, and their powerlessness to save them." Carol x Michonne.  {re-upload}
Relationships: Michonne/Carol Peletier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Fine Wine and Quality Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stephtron312](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephtron312/gifts).



> For Stephtron312. <333

"Then he just went off the deep end!" Michonne sputtered out, swirling the last of her wine in the wineglass, one of the set they managed to find in one of the "model" homes.

"He isn't thinking clearly. Sometimes, I don't know if any of us are," Carol commiserated with her friend. "But, I'm glad you stepped in when you did. We can't be getting kicked out of here," Carol's voice cracked slightly, "and none of us are in any condition to battle it out in a take-over."

The harshness in her tone didn't escape Michonne's notice and she thought back to how Rick had kicked Carol out of the prison. That had hurt on a deep, visceral level and Carol was still wary of his decision-making and thought process. They had reached a kind of understanding between each other, but it was tenuous at best.

Michonne couldn't seem to reconcile her feelings towards the sheriff. She cared for him; there was something there. She couldn't deny, however, that his choices were sometimes questionable. She still had the imprint of the rock in her hand to prove it.

"I just wish he was in a place where he could contribute to a relationship, you know?" Michonne sipped her wine, leaning back and resting her head against the headboard. Carol and she had closeted themselves in one of the bedrooms to drink wine and bitch about stuff and things. They needed a break, a moment, a night, however long, to get everything out...to vent so it couldn't fester inside anymore.

True, it had taken two bottles of wine, lifted from the pantry, for the two of them to really let out how they felt. Both women were so used to holding everything so close to their chest. Not speaking of the thoughts and fears that plagued them. Not used to giving voice to the grief and guilt they each felt for the children they had lost to this plague of undead, and their powerlessness to save them.

"You know I know all about it," Carol shook her head. "It's so frustrating..."

Michonne glanced over at Carol, staring hard at her, until finally with a heavy sigh Carol relented and leaned back next to Michonne, resting her head against the headboard as well and clutching her wineglass to her chest.

"He's working through his shit. He's tryin'. He's got that book, and he's got Aaron, and you know, he's really become a man, but he's just...," Carol trailed off, picking at the hem of her shirt, rubbing the thin, cotton material between her fingers.

"I want more than just sex. I want something deeper than that. He's just not there. Hasn't made it to that place yet," Michonne responded, looking back down at the glass in her hand, staring at the deep, rich, burgundy color of the wine.

"What's wrong with us? Bein' this hung up on two men with issues as big as theirs. Or better yet, what's the matter with them that they don't see what's right in front of their faces?" Carol downed the last of her glass and poured another, emptying the bottle. "I'm a damn catch! You should’ve seen the way Tobin was trying to get me to go shooting with him," Carol was clearly tipsy, getting a little louder and little more animated as she drank.

"They just can't handle it, I guess. Can't deal with someone who can take it and dish it out. Someone who has her shit together," Michonne smirked, bitterness lacing her words.

"Yeah. Yeah. You know what? Fuck the way it was before. I'm done with that. I have needs!"

"Don't we all?" Michonne sighed and listened to Carol let out a very unhappy groan.

"Yeah, I mean, your fingers get tired after a while. It's just not the same as another person being there with you. Damn! I miss my vibrator!" Carol exclaimed, gesturing wildly and forgetting she had her wineglass in hand, spilling it all over the front of her shirt and down her pants. 

"Well shit! That was good wine too! I should just call it a night, quit while I'm behind." Carol clambered off the bed, making her way to the dresser against the wall and pulling a tee shirt from the drawer.

"Too bad batteries aren't easier to come across," Michonne lamented.

Carol pulled the sticky, stained top off, heedless of Michonne sitting there on the bed, and tossed it in the hamper, along with her wine-soaked pants.

"You know that stain is gonna set if you don't soak it," Michonne pointed out, draining the rest of her glass.

"Who cares," Carol shrugged her shoulders, turning to address Michonne, forgetting for the moment that she was topless. "It's no worse than the walker blood staining everything else of ours."

Carol's eyes met Michonne's and she saw a flash of heat in the woman's gaze, realizing after a moment that she was bare and Michonne was definitely appreciating the view.

"See something ya like?" Carol took her time slipping the shirt over her head, stretching her arms languidly above her, elongating her lean body and thrusting her breasts into prominence.

“Actually, I do.”

Carol’s breath caught in her throat and, as her shirt fell against her skin, she felt her blood rushing to the surface, flushing her skin and heating her flesh. She was only seventy percent sure it was because of the wine.

“Seriously?” Carol’s voice squeaked and she cringed at the sound as she tried to make sense of her thoughts and what her body was doing.

Michonne’s voice was quiet and husky as she answered Carol, “You’re the one who said you have needs. What’s wrong with helping one another out?”

Carol pondered Michonne’s offer, thinking she was right; there was really no harm in helping each other find some satisfaction.

Carol approached, slowly and a bit unsteadily climbing up to sit on the foot of the bed.

“Wouldn’t it make things weird?” Carol asked, blushing so hard her face was strawberry colored and her ears were blood red.

Michonne sat up straighter on the mattress and leaned slightly towards Carol, placing her hand on top of Carol’s in a comforting gesture.

“Only if we let it,” Michonne answered. “We don’t have to do it. It was just an idea. There’s no pressure here. We can finish our wine and forget it was ever mentioned.”

Carol pondered over all the angles, turning it over in her mind. She was a little too muddled to think through every scenario, but most of the ones she considered, only ever ended with her and Michonne being satisfied, and that was the end of that. She could see no cons in the proposal.

“I don’t think I could forget. I don’t want to forget it.” Carol turned her hand palm up beneath Michonne’s and pulled her closer, meeting her halfway in a tentative kiss, soft lips brushing up against each other. She pulled back and Carol searched Michonne’s face trying to gauge her reaction. Michonne looked her in the eye, desire burning in her gaze.

Carol ignored any uncertainty she felt and pressed forward, wrapping her arms around Michonne’s neck. Carol met Michonne’s lips in a fervent kiss, deeper than the last one, lips sliding and molding together. Michonne’s hands steadied Carol’s waist, slipping beneath the loose cotton tee-shirt and delicately gripping Carol’s hips.

Michonne’s soft fingertips pressed into the delicate flesh of Carol’s lower back, lightly stroking her skin, causing Carol’s blood to heat, and rush, and her limbs to suddenly feel weightless, as if the nervous energy had taken over and her whole body was floating in the clouds. It was ecstasy defined, to feel the loving touch of another. Something she hadn’t felt in years - pleasure from another’s hand and not her own.

Michonne’s hands trailed down further, caressing Carol’s backside through the thin cotton underwear she had on, and a sound of such need escaped Carol that Michonne reclined and pulled Carol down beside her in the bed, heedless of their surroundings and whether or not anyone else was in the house.

Beside one another, they slowed things down, lazily kissing, their tongues slipping and sliding together in an intimate and deeply arousing manner. Carol drew on feelings of pleasure and the sensations rocketing through her body, and ignored any hesitance or feelings of being out of her depth. She simply focused on what felt good, and she wrapped her leg around Michonne’s leg, drawing her closer and slipping her hand beneath Michonne’s shirt.

Michonne’s skin was smooth, silky, warm, and full of life and a vitality that shimmered in her from the first day Carol had laid eyes on her. Carol pressed further and her fingers brushed against the other woman’s breast, causing Michonne’s breath to hitch and a tiny cry escape her lips.

“Yes,” Michonne whispered fervently, caught up in the kisses she was raining along Carol’s neck and collarbone. “Off,” she said as she tugged at Carol’s tee shirt and Carol withdrew her hand from Michonne and lifted her shirt off quickly, tossing it over the side of the bed.

She made to continue where she left off, but Michonne had other ideas, eagerly latching onto Carol’s breast and taking her nipple in her mouth, laving and sucking, teasing Carol until her cries of bliss were ringing off the window panes. Michonne leaned up over Carol to gain better leverage, and while one hand was paying attention to Carol’s rosy peaks, the other was dipping below the waistband of Carol’s underwear, searching out her damp curls, and wet folds.

She tugged Carol's underwear off and she almost came off the bed when Michonne slipped her fingers inside her, sliding easily into her soaked center. Michonne looked up Carol’s body noting the deep flush of her skin, the sweat glistening off her brow, and trickling along the flesh between her breasts. Carol was trying to muffle her cries and failing miserably as Michonne hooked her fingers and rubbed the spot that had Carol’s legs shaking and hips thrusting, begging for more. Michonne lowered her head and, while keeping her fingers in motion, she dipped her tongue down Carol’s center, licking up her slit with the flat of her tongue and savoring her taste, before moving in soft, slow circles over Carol’s clit.

The tension rose, building on each wave, every stroke, until finally that thread snapped and Carol screamed, her body shuddering and squeezing, her inner walls trapping Michonne’s fingers in a vise-like grip as she rode out her orgasm, floating along in euphoric bliss.

Michonne hummed, placing soft kisses along Carol’s c-section scar from Sophia, as she wriggled her fingers free, and waited for Carol to come back to earth.

“Was that good?” she asked, once Carol had opened her eyes and looked at her in hazy wonderment.

“Pffffft. I’d say neither one of us needs a vibrator anymore,” Carol joked, throwing her arm over her eyes as she tried to catch her breath.

Michonne chuckled, but it was still laced with desire, her thirst not having been quenched just yet. Carol heard the lust, the deep, husky edge of arousal thickening Michonne’s laugh and she rose up on her elbows, giving Michonne a pouty grin.

“Your turn.”


End file.
